Brother Wands
by Weirdlet
Summary: Voldemort's wand gives voice to its plaint, and its tale.


Brother Wands

First MRTMA fic, in fact, first Potter fic.Tell how you like it.

A question, does anyone else think Order of the Phoenix has something to do with an order of knighthood?

I am thirteen and a half inches long.Yew.Containing one phoenix tail-feather.And I have seen/felt things you will never want to.

I remember waiting in my box, in Mr. Ollivander's shop.We wands cannot feel for ourselves, but we can think and we are all connected, speaking to one another.When someone holds us, or uses us, we can tell their thoughts, their feelings.Their senses.So we knew we were in a shop owned by Mr. Ollivander, from being picked up and tried.

It was fifty-No, closer to sixty years now-when the boy came in.I had been waiting quite a while.My brother and I, born from the same phoenix's tail, had been created especially for a purpose.Something about an Order, that we would try to call our masters into.And I was matched first.

I was paid for, five Galleons, ten Sickles, and taken from the shop.The boy who held me . . .I could feel nervousness, excitement, and ambition from him.And no conscience.

His name was Riddle, I picked up.Tom Marvolo Riddle.He started out fine, learning and obeying the rules.But I think he may have behaved only because it gained him in school.He did things that were to his advantage, and for almost no other reason.It could have just been an innocent arrogance.But things change.And things started changing soon.

I remember when he started experimenting with me.I performed spells on small creatures, that should not have been.I was used to search, for what I did not know, but it was something terrible.A chamber, with a monster.

My master was starting to have odd thoughts.Ideas of immense power, and of a cleansed world.One he would rule forever.I could tell, even then, that his mind was twisting and shaping strangely.And one day we found the Chamber, the horrible place where the Basilisk lived.Tom didn't need me to control the venomous beast, and for that small relief I am grateful.

But such respites were not to last.

I heard the whole thing that night with Aragog and Hagrid, and I sorrowed.But it was not to be last or the greatest time that I sorrowed.When he left the school, my master had killed thrice already.His sire, his grand-sire and his grand-dam.Know you what it is like, to be used to perform an Unforgivable Curse?Worse than feeling filthy and used, worse than wishing you could self-destruct.I wished to harm my master, something forbidden.

It only got worse as time went by.My master changed his name, his face; studied with the greatest and worst Dark wizards of the time.And sometimes killed his masters when he had learned all he could from them.I grieved, and wept, and could not do a thing, not even backfire at him.It went on for _years_, decades, and it got worse and worse.People were following him, and I heard the mental cries of their wands as they were used.

Finally, it came down to one spell.One final spell that forced my master to stop, however briefly.

I was used to cast the Dark Mark into the air, and my master stormed inside a house.I was used to torment a man into unconsciousness, and killed a woman.But I could feel a charm from her, a spell of protection, not for her, but her babe.I could not quite figure it because my master spun around and killed the man on the floor, who had begun to stir.I was numb, it had happened so many times before, deadly energy coursing through my phoenix tail core.

My master turned and faced the wailing child in his mother's cold arms.I still to this day know not why he wished to kill the babe.As he gathered his energy for the spell I knew was coming, I sensed the charm around the babe.His dam had died for him; it was one of the oldest pieces of magic in existence.When somebody gives their life for you, you are guarded, bound with a protection against the mutual threat.The spell would backfire.

I held my breath (well, you know what I mean, I was in suspense) and prepared to make this the worst and most powerful use of Avada Kedavra through my person.

It worked.

My master was not killed, but he lost his power, was less than a ghost.All his experiments in immortality had given him one chance, but that would not come until his servants searched and restored him to a physical body.And, I knew this and mentally smiled grimly, they were not so loyal as they seemed.

I lay there on the ground, thinking on what had just happened.The curse I had transmitted had been especially powerful, so the child would have slight damage even with the protection of his dam's sacrifice for him.He would have a cut where the curse touched, probably deep enough to scar, and his retinas would be a little singed.He'd need glasses as a boy and adult.But at least he would grow to _be_ a boy and adult.

I lay there in Godric's Hollow, communicating with other wands, who gave mental shrieks of joy. And I, after being used so hard, went dormant for a few years.

I woke up to hear my brother wand's high roar of joy as he was picked up and found his master suiting.It was the boy I had not killed ten years ago.I woke and gave a mental shriek of absolute and utter happiness that I received complaints from much of the wand community.But it did not matter.I knew my brother and I had been created for a purpose, to try and bring our masters to this Order thing, something to do with the phoenix whose feathers we bore on our insides.I had failed utterly, but my brother could do better with this child.

Over the next few years, my brother told me of how his master progressed, and of the progress my master made, and how he was thwarted.I knew he would send a servant for me eventually, but now I had hope.The boy who lived was the opposing force to my master where there had been none before, and I was happy.

Then a rat came for me, and took me to my master.He was a shambles of his former self.Weak and foul.I was glad, but sorrowed still that he was able to function at all, however badly.He could still use me to hurt and kill, and did.But I knew that when he confronted my brother's master, he would come off the worse.

The confrontation came, after my master had restored himself to a body.Even had I been used in the spell, I have almost no control of how my master uses me.I could not prevent it.But I knew that I could not be used against my brother wand, so long as we were aimed right.

We met unwilling, we did not wish to do battle.My master kept forcing his deadly spell through me, and my brother's master his spell of disarming.We connected, and the binding we shared we forced into a cage to prevent outside interference.We used the song of the bird we had come from, humming and singing to aid and discourage our respective masters.

We knew the Priori Incantatem effect, and my brother was loath to hurt me.I shrieked to him in the wand's mental voice, to obey his master's strong will and allow the Priori Incantatem effect to come to me.The beads were forced toward me and entered; I shivered to feel the effects and slowly began vomiting up all the spells my master had forced me to perform in reverse order.

It was cleansing.I spat the screams of others and the false hand, the ghosts of the last five people I had been forced to steal life from.They gathered about my master, threatening and intimidating him with all the guilt they knew of him.I would have cheered, but was busy with the spells.The boy broke the connection and ran, and I was left with my master, thwarted once more.

I know my master will use me again, terribly and worse than ever before.But now I know my brother and his master are strong enough to have a chance, and I will aid them in any way I can.


End file.
